


On Christmas we deserve good things

by maevedarcy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kid!Fic, Kinda canon compliant, M/M, Original Character(s), because it's always needed, but also not?, so many Christmas with the pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevedarcy/pseuds/maevedarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Stiles, Christmas stopped making sense when the pack entered the equation.</p><p>(Or the one where unexpected good things happen on every Christmas with the pack.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Christmas we deserve good things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainsoakedshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen wolf or any of its characters, I don't even own the program used to write this story.
> 
> Merry Christmas, Sarah and a happy new year!

**Now**

 

It took Derek exactly four words to convince Stiles to try for adoption instead of a surrogate: they might be supernatural. Stiles didn’t answer right away, but he knew that they were going into an adoption agency and intentionally look for a kid that probably wouldn’t be safe in a human household.

It had been a long process, a painfully long process. Early on, Stiles’ dad had given them a long talk on all the ways it could go right and wrong. Derek and him had talked over the kid they wanted (they had almost immediately agreed on a girl, a newborn if possible) and all the things the kid would need. They moved from Stiles’ apartment to a two story house in the same street he had lived as a kid. Then they started with the paperwork.

Stiles had never been more thankful of his obsessive tendencies because he researched the hell out of the adoption process in California. He had wasted so many nights checking websites, reading blogs, talking to parents who had gone through the same process. Derek had taken his laptop away too many times to keep count.

Derek’s family lawyer had put them in contact with some adoption agencies that he had worked in the past and some foster care parents that were raising supernatural children. He had even arranged them with an adoption attorney that was competent enough although he seemed to hate working with Stiles as if druids’ existence was offensive to him on a biological level.

When Stiles got his hands on agency names, he actually took a day off from work to research the places where it was most likely to be werewolf children. It involved a spell or two and a color-coded chart because you can’t have too many charts on supernatural creatures. Derek may have laughed at him first, but it had been pretty useful when they found out about the California branch of Gifted Children for Alternative Families Adoption Agency, or the GCAF. It was run by a druid and a werewolf who actively looked for supernatural children who needed an adoptive family. Derek had snorted when Stiles read the name saying things like _stop making shit up, Stiles_ , or _is this for real?_ , as he leaned over Stiles’ shoulder to see the website he’d been browsing for the last ten minutes, _They sound like Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters_. Stiles had smiled at the reference and then shoved Derek away as he contacted the agency to request a meeting with them.

— — —

 

**Then**

 

Christmas at the Stilinski household had been for a long time just Stiles, his dad, Scott and Melissa. It had been as fun as it could be when either Melissa or the Sheriff had to back to work after a quick meal, however it had been special in its own right.

The first time the pack had spent a Christmas together it had been Scott and Stiles again. Allison had visited for a while and then gone back home, Lydia had texted Merry Christmas and there had been no sign of Derek. About a month later, Stiles found out Derek’s birthday was on Christmas day and had felt like the shittiest person in the world for not inviting him over. He probably wouldn’t have come anyway but it was the intention that counted.

Next year, however, Erica had appeared at his doorstep around 10 am on Christmas morning and had knocked on the door until he just couldn’t ignore her anymore.

“What do you want?” he mumbled sleepily.

“It’s Christmas, you moron! We should do something as a pack.”

“Yeah, I vote for sleeping until 2 pm, what do you think?”

She pushed past him and entered the living room carrying a big backpack in tow. “It’s Derek’s birthday and my parents agreed to let me spend time with my new friends to celebrate.”

Erica’s parents were overprotective at best. They still thought Erica had epilepsy so they keep treating her like a breakable doll when in reality, she is capable of taking care of herself pretty well. They’re also very happy that she seems to be making friends, not that she knows they pretty much hated each other while Jackson was a kanima. Erica’s parents don’t know about the kanima either, anyway.

“Why are you here? Why not at Scott’s or Derek’s?” he asks, contemplating the idea of going back upstairs and leave her alone with the birthday planning.

“Because Derek is still mad at Scott and would never go to Scott’s. And it’s a surprise, we can’t have a surprise party at his place when he would hear us get everything ready.”

“Then why not your place?”

She smirks, “because I know Derek will not refuse to come here.”

“He’s mad at Scott and I’m like Scott’s more annoying shadow. I think that by extension, he’s mad at me. Or he just doesn’t care about what happens to me.”

Erica looks at him and shakes her head “you’re an idiot, Stiles.”

An hour and a half later, Scott is at his doorstep carrying three bags of snacks. Stiles hates him a little because he looks happy and that only can mean that he and Allison are on speaking terms again. That suspicion is confirmed when she drops by around twelve carrying a pie and smiling shyly at Scott.

Boyd arrives with cookies and says that he hopes it ends quickly because he has siblings to entertain. When Lydia comes through the door and greets him with a half-hearted hug as Stiles decides he should at least change his pajamas before Derek arrives, and end the embarrassing situation of Lydia seeing him in his pajamas, so he takes a quick shower and puts on a pair of dark jeans and the ugliest sweater he can find. He comes downstairs to find Erica crying over the phone.

“Oh my god Derek we need your help. Yes, I know but something happened.” A short pause. “It’s Stiles, he was- Oh, okay”

She hangs up and smiles when she looks at him. “He’s coming.”

What.

Did they just lied to Derek telling him Stiles was in danger? And he was coming? He must have woken up in a parallel dimension where everything is the same, except Derek is a half-decent alpha and considers Stiles part of the pack.

Not more than five minutes later, Derek comes through the door, in his beta shift with Isaac right behind him, looking worried. Positively worried, yep. When everyone yells _Surprise_!, he just looks confused.

“Happy birthday!” says Erica throwing confetti at Derek, who slowly shifts back to his human face.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

“We’re celebrating, you idiot!” Erica explains. When he just quirks an eyebrow in response, she elaborates. “It’s your birthday, dumbass. We should celebrate. Everyone is here so you have to stay and be happy.”

Derek turns to frown at Isaac. “Did you know about this?”

Isaac lowers his head, looking sheepish. “Maybe?”

“And you thought this was a good idea?” the alpha says raising his voice, a growl following his words.

“Hey, hey, hey” Stiles steps in, “it was my idea ok? No need to get all Big Bad Alpha on the wolves, you hear me?”

He hopes his heartbeat is steady enough so the lie goes undetected, but he’s not gonna have Derek screaming at Isaac in his living room on freaking Christmas.

Derek is glowering at him, unimpressed.

“Look, you’re gonna drop the alpha show, eat some pie and sit on the couch enjoying the party I planned for your ungrateful ass. There will be no screaming and everyone will be freaking joyful because it’s freaking Christmas, alright?”

Scott is looking at Stiles in awe, Lydia seems impressed by Stiles in a way that makes him stand a little straighter and Erica, well Erica looks as if she wants to hug Stiles and also scream at him for being a reckless idiot.

Derek sighs and walks to the couch. When he passes next to Stiles, he murmurs _thank you_ but doesn’t say anything the rest of the evening.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

One week and an hour and a half long drive later, they were pulling up in the driveway of a three-story Georgian house. The California branch of Gifted Children for Alternative Families Adoption Agency looked more like a big family countryside home than a supernatural adoption agency. If it wasn’t for the high fence they had passed just a moment ago, opened by a guard that checked their IDs twice, Stiles would be worried they had the wrong place.

They walk to the door and before they have time to regret their decision, a tall black woman opens the door.

“Hi. You must be Derek and Stiles. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she greets with a smile. Stiles isn’t sure he wants to trust her.

When Stiles doesn’t say anything, or shows any signs of moving for that matter, Derek extends his hand to her. “Hi, I’m Derek. This is my husband Stiles, who is obviously nervous about this meeting.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry,” he says.

“I’m Marin Morrell and I’ll be you adoption consultant today. Sadly, neither of the founders will join us today as they are in a rescue right now.”

Stiles didn’t know how to process that new information. He knew that these women took in orphaned children but it made him uneasy to think that somewhere, probably not too far away, right now a child needed their help. Stiles knew right then that Derek had been right about adoption.

Marin smiles as if she knew exactly what was going though his mind and he had passed some kind of test he was unaware of. Derek’s hand found his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. They kept walking hand in hand the rest of the way while Marin talked about the house. They passed a living room and entered an office that looked more like a small library. Stiles was impressed by the books lined against the walls in the tall shelves. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit curious about what was hidden there.

Marin gestured them to take a sit as she made her way around the large wooden desk, to a leather chair where she reclined a little.

“As you know by now,” started Marin, picking up a folder and going through the contents as if she had them memorized, “we deal with children with very special needs. Most of them have lost their parents in tragic circumstances, others have been abandoned when a human mother has noticed their abilities, and even though they have been through therapy, they are very vulnerable children so they need stability in their lives.”

“We have done our fair share of research in the past few days and we think you two are suitable candidates.” Stiles feels a chill down his spine knowing that he had been watched in some degree. “However, we still need to complete an extensive home study if you wish to go ahead with the process after you know the process in detail.”

From there, Marin talked almost non-stop about the details of the adoption process, answering their questions with a warm smile and a professional tone. Stiles asked so many questions that he was worried she’d get tired of him and stop the interview right then. It’s Derek, though the one who asks what’s probably the most dreaded question. “How long will the process take?”

Stiles squeezes his hand and tries not to fidget in his chair. Marin seems to have been waiting for that question when she replies.

“Well, contrary to most agencies, we place children in a new home within two to three months. They need a family and we have many children to take care of. Besides, we have means to get information that most agencies don’t.”

Before Stiles has time to overthink the ways they get their information, Marin goes on to talk about the children that lived in the house. There were thirteen of them at the moment, four of them under a year, the others went from two to nine years. Stiles wasn’t surprised when most of them were werewolves. He was actually expecting it. Werewolves live dangerous lives and most of them die young leaving very scared, and possibly scarred for life, children. There was also a kitsune baby, an amazon and a dracaenae, a half-dragon girl that Stiles was particularly interested in knowing.

“We’ve already narrowed down your options to ten,” continued Marin, “given that we usually match children with parents with their same abilities to make it easier for them to adapt. However, the rest of the kids are not out of the table, you’d just have to follow a longer process of home study and education to go along the child needs.”

Marin opens a drawer and takes out several manila folders with a big, red CONFIDENTIAL seal across all of them. She passes them over to them, Stiles’ fingers itching to read them. He holds off however, waiting for Marin to tell them they can’t see them unless the agency has a signed contract on his soul.

“You can take these files with you.” She says, surprising Stiles, “they are detailed enough for you to know about the children but they don’t have any information that might put them in danger. I don’t think I need to tell you that these are for your eyes only.”

Stiles was definitely not scared of Marin Morrell. He could sense exactly how powerful she was but he thought that she wasn’t what he should be afraid of. From what he had been able to gather, Julia and Kali Baccari, the founders of the adoption agency, were the real danger.

As Derek and Stiles make their way out of the library, he glances at a room at his right, where he sees five kids, who looked between three and five years old, listening to a story. Two little girls, twins his brain supplies, are looking at the window, at Stiles, with a small smile and hopeful eyes. He feels something tight in his chest when their eyes follow him until he can’t see the girls anymore. He knows they agreed on one, preferably a newborn, but Stiles was seriously reconsidering the idea. When they got to the foyer, Derek was giving him a strange look.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” Marin says. “Please let us know if you are interested in one of the children so we can arrange a meeting with our social worker.”

They leave the agency in silence, Stiles slightly afraid that Marin can still hear their conversation even when they’ve passed the iron fence.

 

They don’t talk much on the drive home, and they don’t talk about the kids. As soon as they get home, Derek drags Stiles to the living room.

“Come on, tell me what’s going on inside your head,” he says sitting down.

Stiles bites his bottom lip and looks at Derek. “There were these twins-”

“Stiles,” Derek groans.

“I know, I know. We talked about this but can we just take a look at the twins’ files and consider it? Just think about it.”

Derek sighs and nudges Stiles to recline in the sofa, then he lies half on top of him. Stiles isn’t sure what was about the twins but he knew they had to at least think about it. He distractedly runs his fingers through Derek’s hair, not thinking about the fact that the twins had looked so hopeful, as if they knew this was their only chance to be adopted. He obviously is not going to think about that.

“Do you want to look at the files now?” Derek asks, his voice muffled against Stiles’ chest.

“Nah, let’s leave it for later. I have to go back to work anyway, I could use some research.”

Derek sighs and stands up. “I should prepare tomorrow’s class.”

Stiles hums his approval “I miss the good old days of making out with the Linguistic Anthropology TA. Do you still make out with your students?”

“Only the promising ones,” Derek replies with a smirk.

Stiles throws one of the sofa cushions at his face.

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

The alpha pack had come to wreck them in a way they hadn’t been prepared, messing with the pack in more ways than possible. Ennis, the alpha druid who had not only poisoned Cora, but had tried to kill their parents to be powerful enough to kill Deucalion, had left a deep wound in the pack, changing the dynamics to the point that no one was completely sure where they stood anymore.

Stiles had insisted on a Christmas celebration because something had to go right. He had called and annoyed Derek until he agreed to come back from South America, his little sister refusing to leave him alone, and had managed to make Allison go even when she said she had nothing to do with the pack.

“Allison, this is not a pack thing, it’s a friend thing and you are my friend,” he had said attempting to convince her. “I want you there the same way I want Scott and Erica in the same place. And you will be there even if I need to get your father’s help to tie you in my living room.”

She had laughed and agreed because she was that good. She still tiptoed around Erica and Boyd, but she had tried to be friendly towards everyone that day. Lydia hadn’t abandoned her side, making snarky remarks at Erica’s not-so-subtle attacks.

It was almost 3 pm and Stiles was ready to give up on waiting for Derek and Cora to arrive when he hears the back door opening, all the wolves turning immediately with a small growl. Scott is the first one to relax and goes to the kitchen, Stiles following close behind him. By the time, he enters the kitchen, Scott is involving Derek in a bone-crushing bro hug and Derek might be hugging back. Scott doesn’t hug Cora, apparently afraid of stepping over some kind of boundary that Stiles can’t see. Stiles waves a hand to Cora and then he’s standing in front of Derek.

“Hey, big man, how have you been?”

Stiles will deny it with his dying breath, but he might have sighed with relief when Derek involved him in a bone-crushing hug of his own. It might have been slightly awkward but he was happy to know that the man was content to see him.

There were a lot of hugs exchanged in the next minutes, even Allison got a hug, and Stiles was slightly worried that Derek had been possessed by a hugging demon or something. (Were demon possessions real anyway?)

They ate and watched cheesy Christmas movies and Stiles ended up sharing his bed with Isaac and Lydia and it was the best wolf slumber party he ever had.

 

Stiles doesn’t have to ask himself if possessions are a real thing next Christmas.

He’s working a late shift at the library, having decided the books in the young adult section looked wrong. Stiles has been holding the same book for a while now and the fairy in the cover looks pissed. He looks at the other books in the trilogy and his hands shake. He drops the book and leaves the shelf he was organizing.

Stiles is sitting in the floor, his back to the wall, trying to put himself together again. He can’t let himself slip into the downward spiral when Scott will be coming home for Christmas in less than a week. Stiles always thought that he and Scott would go to college together, share a room and go to the same fraternity parties, saving each other from choking in their own vomit. However, his friends are gone for college while he’s still at Beacon Hills trying to get a fucking grip and get better.

After Allison’s death, he held together long enough to finish his last semester and then crumbled under the weight of his own guilt. There weren’t enough pills in the world to keep his dreams away from the night he let Allison die in front of him.

 _It wasn’t you, Stiles. No one blames you,_ Scott had said. But Stiles blames himself and that’s enough.

He passed on college when he heard Lydia drunkenly slurring that Allison wanted to go into law enforcement, maybe be a cop someday. Stiles knew that Lydia hadn’t meant to say it but suddenly he was face to face with everything he had stolen from Allison: a career, a family, a life. Stiles had left the party in the middle of a panic attack, ran until he couldn’t breathe anymore and passed out in his sofa almost immediately.

After a few moments, Stiles feels calm enough to finish his work and drive home. His sleep is restless, haunted by Allison’s warm smile.

He wakes up to a text from Derek asking at what time he and Cora should get there. Stiles doesn’t reply because he’s not sure he can gather enough strength to think about Christmas dinner. He doesn’t feel strong enough to get out of bed but a glance at the date on his phone gives him the energy he needs for a shower and a change of clothes.

Going back to the nemeton is all kinds of stupid, but Stiles knows it’s a powerful sacred space and it’s the only one he knows. He can’t go around asking for druids’ sacred spaces without attracting attention to himself and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

The closer he gets to the place, the louder the humming in his ears becomes, to the point he needs to stop every few meters to regain some strength. Stiles is starting to think his plan won’t go well and he should head back home, but the nemeton pulls Stiles towards it, the connection vibrating in his bones.

Before Stiles has time to dwell on it, he pulls out a small wooden box out of his backpack and puts it on the floor. He takes his shirt off, the hair on his arms standing up in the chilly air, and throws a handful of mountain ash in the air that falls in a perfect circle around him and the tree stump. Amazed that this part worked, Stiles decides to keep going, kneeling in front of the nemeton holding the silver arrowhead that was inside the box.

He knows that magic is more about will power than innate talent, but for once, he knows that Deaton was right when he said he had a spark in him. Stiles can feel it thrumming underneath his skin, he can hear it in the beating of his heart, he can see it when the arrowhead glows under the dull winter sky.

Stiles’ puts all his strength in it, the spell will work because it has to work. He’s not gonna let Allison miss on college parties, she’s not gonna miss on a two story house in the suburbs, she won’t miss on two kids with warm smiles identical to her own. He’s not gonna let Allison miss her life.

He’s starting to feel lightheaded when he hears someone screaming for him. Stiles thinks the yelling gets louder and then there’s a deafening howl that takes him out of his trance.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Stiles?”

A familiar voice shouts from a short distance. He stands up and turns around to find Derek breathing heavily, as if he had taken part in a fight he was unaware of.

 _I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to give Allison what she deserves. I’m trying to stop the pain._ “I- I don’t know,” comes out instead.

But Stiles knows what he’s doing, he knows what he’s giving up, his life for hers. He’s doing the right thing.

“Are you out of your freaking mind?” he hears Derek say.

Stiles looks at him, really looks at him, and sees the underlying panic in his furious expression, as if Stiles actions were more than those of an annoying human kid. As if Stiles was important. He looks away, unable to see anyone worrying about him after all he did a few months ago.

He goes down in one knee and waves a hand over the mountain ash. Just a moment later, Derek is there, holding him by the shoulder and inspecting if there’s any damage. He seems satisfied with the lack of cuts in his body and pulls him in a hug. Stiles just stands there, not knowing how to respond. Somehow, Stiles ends up with Derek’s leather jacket on his shoulders. Stiles puts his hands in the pockets and finds a small object that he’s curious enough to pull out. He’s wondering why would Derek carry a lighter in his pocket when he notices the inscription on it, _L. H._. Stiles puts it back in the pocket, clutching tightly when Derek takes the wooden box and put the arrowhead inside again.

It has to work.

 

He wakes up the morning of the 25th with a loud bang of his door. It remind Stiles of the first Christmas with the pack and pain washes over him as he thinks of Allison’s shy smile when she was back with Scott. He opens the door and stares.

And stares some more.

Allison is standing there wearing the white dress and the black blazer he knew Lydia had chosen for her. She’s covered in dirt, her hair a mess over her head and she looks disorientated and confused as to why she’s there.

“Stiles?”

He gasps and extends a hand towards her. When she takes it, he puts his arms around her and sobs into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Ally.”

Allison hugs him back, comforting him because that’s Allison. Her skin is cold to the touch, so after a moment he brings her inside, wrapping her in the throw blanket that’s half on the the sofa and half on the floor. He’s about to call Scott, his dad, Allison’s dad, or anyone when he hears a long, loud, doleful cry coming from the woods followed by two different howls just a moment later.

He goes back upstairs to pick up his phone, reading a message from Derek that reads _What did you do?_. Stiles starts making calls on his way downstairs.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

Stiles has never been particularly good at this waiting thing. That’s why he’s driving home just an hour after he told Derek he had to work. Beacon Hills Historic Society can wait. He gets home to a barefoot, shirtless husband cooking dinner.

“What a sight,” he sighs dreamily as he leans in the kitchen entrance. Derek turns around quirking an eyebrow.

Stiles sees the adoption files resting in the kitchen counter. “A little anxious aren’t we?”

Derek’s lowers his chin sheepishly, small smile tugging his lips. He has his bright, big smile when he glances back at Stiles. “I Haven’t looked at them though.”

Stiles believes him, even when it’s highly probable Derek is lying, but he believes him because that’s just how Stiles works. “Wanna look at them now?”

The files are spread on the table in front of them and they go over them starting by the youngest child, but Stiles is completely distracted by the second file and when Derek notices, he just skips to the twins’ file.

Blake and Darcy, two years old, werewolves. There’s a small picture attached in which they are laughing, eyes crinkled, their little teeth showing. His heart does a funny thing when he notices their eyes are a rich deep honey color that reminds him of his own eyes. The girls’ parents were killed by hunters a year ago and have been waiting to be adopted since. The only relatives they have left is an aunt that moved to Canada a month after her sister was killed and wasn’t approved by Kali to keep the girls. There’s a bit about unknown information about the mother’s background but Stiles doesn’t give much thought about it.

He flips the sheet to read a small description of the girls: Blake is two years of age, Caucasian, and the oldest of two twins to be placed together for adoption. She is happy, friendly and protective of her sister Darcy. She’s well-behaved and loves to play outside. She has reached all her developmental milestones and can stand and walk independently.

Darcy is two years of age, Caucasian, and the youngest of two twins to be placed together for adoption. She is shy at first, but very talkative once she’s more relaxed. She’s well-behaved, affectionate and loves story time. Not only she has reached all her developmental milestones but she’s ahead of them, already being able to string short sentences together. She can stand and walk independently.

At the bottom of the page, there’s another picture of the girls, sitting on the floor, their heads turned up to the camera, blushed and happy and Stiles may have made a sound when he saw it.

“Stiles” he hears Derek say, his voice cautious and full of worry. Stiles turns to look at him and frowns at his worried expression.

“Come on, Derek, you said we’d consider it.”

“ ‘Their mother’s family background remains unknown,’ ” Derek reads from the first page, “ ‘making it hard to grasp the full extent of their abilities.’ Stiles they are a huge risk.”

“Everything in our lives has been a risk. Have you taken a look at our lives? With our luck, everything could go to hell in the next hour.”

Derek remains unconvinced.

“We don’t have to decide this now,” Stiles adds, “let’s just eat something and go to bed, okay?”

They eat on the couch and go to bed around ten like the old men they are.

“We’re getting old, baby.”

Derek rolls his eyes as he slips out of his t-shirt. “So you’d rather be passing out drunk at college?”

“Nah, I’d rather my hot husband just got in bed already so I can do dirty things with him.”

Derek shakes his head and smiles as he gets into bed. Stiles is straddling him and shutting him up with a kiss before he has time to protest about the class he has the next day.

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

When Scott gets to his place, he stops dead on his tracks when he sees Allison. She’s involved in Stiles’ blanket and drinking a cup of hot chocolate and glances up when she hears him. Stiles quickly recounts his morning and explains that Allison’s memories seem to disappear after the fight at Oak Creek.

Scott is still looking dumbfounded when Derek comes through the door. Stiles didn’t remember calling him.

“Stiles what the hell did you do?”

The human looks at Allison and then back at Derek, who only now seems to notice Allison in the living room.

“She’s here too?” he asks bewildered.

“Wait, who else is here?” Scott interrupts.

Derek looks between the two but replies looking at Stiles “Laura.”

 

Chris came to pick up Allison almost half an hour later and Lydia was with him. The girls cried when they hugged. That Christmas there was a lot of crying and not a lot of time spent together. Erica, Boyd and Scott stayed with him during the day. Scott had called Isaac who hadn’t believed anyone until he spoke to Allison. He was in a plane back to California by the end of the day.

Boyd left around four to share with his family and Erica followed not long after. Scott spent the night in the guest room and Stiles definitely did not hear his friend cry. He was staring at the ceiling of his room, unable to sleep when his phone chimed with an incoming text from Derek, it only said _thanks_.

Stiles falls asleep with a small smile on his face, thinking that even unintentionally he had finally done the right thing.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

Stiles has tried on three blue shirts already and he knows Derek is rolling his eyes at him from where he’s standing. It’s not that he can’t decide what to wear, it’s just that he will give a lecture on folklore at Beacon Hills Community College and he wants to look respectable like the honorable member of the Historic Society he is. He should’ve known better than to ask Derek to help him choose.

Derek is obviously not paying attention to him but to the couple who’s shopping a few meters from there. They have two kids, probably five or six years old, who are trying to get the attention of their parents by trying on clothes themselves. Derek has that soft smile he gets when he plays with Malia and Kira’s daughter, the same one he had the same time stiles had mentioned kids.

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and his husband redirects his attention to him, his smile still in place.

“Let’s call Marin to start the paperwork.”

Stiles definitely did not squeal and kissed Derek to cover it up. Definitely not.

 

It turns out, Stiles lied. He had never been more thankful of his obsessive tendencies until now. The paperwork for the home study was enough to drive anyone crazy. But he still kept the binder up to date, a hard copy of all of the documents and a pendrive with a scan of every single thing that contained their signature locked in a safe box. Apparently his paranoia had reached a whole new level.

It was useful though when their social worker appeared at their doorstep with only a ten minute notice.

Stiles and Derek had been having fun on the couch. And by having fun, he means Derek was blowing him while he pretended to prepare for his lecture. He had wanted so badly to ignore the call but just a glance at it was enough to push Derek away and pick up. He scrambled to get dressed and went to the bathroom to make sure he looked decent enough and then ran around the living room trying to clean some of the mess.

He was discarding an empty pizza box when the bell rang. Derek opened the door and invited her in.

Sarah was beautiful.

Stiles had met her twice already, when Marin introduced them to her and they had a brief interview, then again when she interviewed Stiles on his own. He was sure he had fucked up at least twice but Marin hadn’t called to tell them they were never getting a kid so he guessed it had gone alright. Both time he had to remember himself that he was married with the best man ever and wanted to have kids with said man because she was that hot.

She had long, red-ish hair that seemed to glow by itself, beautiful pale skin, big brown eyes and awe-inspiring sharp eyebrows. She had a silver nose ring and was wearing a dark red lipstick that made her look paler than usual. Everything about her is attractive, the black dress she was wearing that clung to her figure just so, the thigh high socks and ankle-high boots with buckles that made her legs even better than the dark jeans he had last seen her in.

After the first time Stiles had failed in human interaction with her, Derek explained him that she was a succubus and it was in their nature to be attractive and flirty towards everyone to survive. Stiles had laughed at his luck and then, with Deaton’s help, created an amulet to make him less stupid when they interacted.

So far it was working, but she was still really beautiful, and had a smile that made him want to trust her when he never trusted anyone he hadn’t run a full background check on.

Sarah looks around the living room as she comes in, as if she knew exactly what they were doing on their free day together. She sits down on the couch and puts down her binder on the table.

“Today we’ll work on your autobiographical statements as well as confirming some of the information I received from your references,” she declares and tells Derek to sit in the dining room while Stiles writes in the living room with his back to Derek.

Stiles is so absorbed in his writing that he doesn’t realize Derek is already finished and is chatting with Sarah about something. He thinks he overdoes it, but then thinks back to the paragraph about the importance of story time when his mother was alive and decides that what’s done is done.

There’s a long talk about personal and family background, and they review some of the things their friends and family had said to make sure they match with their stories. After a couple of painful hours, she leaves saying that she will call when they need to meet again.

For the past three weeks he has relived so many parts of his life that he’s not sure what happened when anymore, the events almost merge with one another, blurring beyond recognition. His mind kept going over the time he was possessed by the nogitsune, his awakening as a druid, all those time his or Derek’s life was in danger and he doubted that any sane person would leave two beautiful girls with him. Maybe this interview was a bit too much for him.

He feels Derek’s arms around him and his chin on Stiles’ shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Derek whispers.

 _I hope so._ “Yeah.”

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

He can’t stop wondering why he thought majoring in anthropology was a good idea. Now he was drowning in reading for his freshmen seminary when all of his friends have gone through their freshmen torture already. Except Allison and Cora but Allison was an organized genius and Cora was smart enough to go to community college and not to freaking Berkeley.

Stiles is seriously considering getting hit by a car to avoid the upcoming essays and lectures and never-ending pages due the next day. He’s still procrastinating by the time he hears his window open.

“Why can’t you be a normal friend and come in through the door?” he asks.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Derek replies sitting by the bed, reading the cover of one of his books. “Stefania Montenegro?”

“Yeah, she’s a professor at Berkeley and her research has been mentioned throughout the seminar enough times that I felt compelled to- Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, I was TA for one of her classes the year I dropped out.”

“Wa-wait, what?” Stiles stutters.

Derek raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing in his lips as he looks at him.

“You majored in Anthropology?”

“And English.”

Fuck. Stiles can’t deal with the idea of Derek as his TA, that would fuel too many fantasies and he has no privacy in his dorm. Fuck, he’s thinking about Derek naked. Again. And Derek probably knows exactly what’s going on through his mind by the beating of his heart or whatever. He tries to distract himself thinking about his seminary but the image of Derek teaching is too strong and won’t leave his mind.

He needs to stop this, whatever _this_ is, when he’s around Derek. Stiles knows nothing is gonna happen, not that he wants anything to happen because he doesn’t want to lose one of his best friends out of a stupid crush. He’d get over it, eventually. He had gotten over Lydia and they had remained good friends. Stiles can do this. He can totally wait on this weird crush thing to go away so everything is back to normal.

“So, double major, huh?”

Derek’s smirk vanishes when he replies “I needed to take my mind out of things.”

Right. This was right after the Hale house fire. Stiles doesn’t know what to reply so he tries to concentrate on his reading.

“Do you have any Christmas plans?” Stiles blurts out two second into his reading.

“Laura wants to open the bar for new year’s eve so I guess I’ll be helping her with that.”

Stiles doesn’t allow his disappointment at another Christmas without the whole pack to show in his face, but Derek had his family with him now, there was no reason for him to spend his birthday surrounded by a bunch of college kids.

“I can still come to your house for the birthday thing.” Stiles tries not to smile. “I know Erica has been saving money to buy enough alcohol to knock out a werewolf pack.”

Stiles tries not to feel warm all over. He fails terribly.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

On December 8th, exactly two months after their first visit, Marin calls and tells hem that their home study is in. The next day she calls to set a last meeting to arrange the final steps in the process and Stiles was about to be sick by the side of the road on their way to the Adoption Agency. He had a hand on Derek’s car and was looking at the asphalt to stop the world from swirling around him. So far it isn't working.

When Stiles doesn’t move, Derek gets out of the car, makes his way to his side and grabs his hand.

“Stiles,” he whispered.

“What if they tell us we’re not actually taking the girls? What if Sarah sees us today and decides to stop everything now? What will happen then? What do we do?”

Derek gently cupped his face, making Stiles look at him. “Then we try again. But I’m pretty sure the girls will be home for Christmas and we’ll be stressing out over it before we get back to Beacon Hills.”

Stiles closes his eyes, breathes in and nods. He re-opens his eyes as he exhales. Derek examines his face and gives him a quick kiss on the lips before holding Stiles’ side door open so he gets into the car. Stiles manages to put himself together before they arrive.

 

Marin Morrell is sitting on her leather chair, looking at a white binder on her desk. Sarah is looking over her shoulder and pointing at something in the pages when Derek and Stiles come in. He feels claustrophobic to the point he thinks he’ll pass out. Derek clings to his hand, rubbing soothing circles in between his thumb and his index finger.

Stiles counts seconds until Marin speaks.

45, 46, 47, 48.

“After a thorough examination of your files by the adoption panel you’ve been given the final approval to adopt Blake and Darcy. Congratulations. You will be meeting them soon.”

Stiles’ sob is muffled by Derek who’s pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“We’re going to be parents,” Derek murmurs.

They are going to be parents.

They will be meeting _their daughters_ soon.

Stiles stops pretending not to cry after that.

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

Derek is late to his own birthday party. Stiles knew he would be helping Laura and Cora with the bar but he had said he’d be here. He said he’d come to the birthday thing and he was late. Stiles hates him so much right now.

He gets Malia, Kira and Scott to help him clean the house and bring the alcohol Erica bought to his home. His father goes into he kitchen before heading to work just to find a beer keg above he kitchen counter and murmurs “I was never here and I definitely did not see any underage drinking.”

“Dad! I’ll be 21 in six months. I don’t think I’ll change that much in six months so there’s no problem.”

“I will pretend I never heard that,” he replied getting his keys.

“Where are you going?” Stiles asks.

“To Melissa’s and then to work.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

“I have to work Stiles.”

Stiles most definitely didn’t pout. He hears Erica’s loud banging on the door, just a moment later she’s getting inside followed by Boyd who carries a box that contains more liquor. The sheriff shakes his head as he exits the house and Stiles watches him leave with a small pang in his chest.

“You know, you could just come in. You come in uninvited anyway” Stiles tells Erica as she greets him with a hug.

“It’s tradition, Stiles,” she smirked. “You know what else is tradition? Mistletoe.”

Stiles sees her take a small bag out of her pocket. “Erica, you’ll poison us all.”

“It’s fake, duh,” replied the blonde girl, dangling the plastic thing above them. “Come on, Stiles” she sings, “It’s tradition.”

He glances at Boyd who just sighs and takes a swing of the bottle of jack he’s holding. Stiles leans in and gives Erica a peck on the lips just as Isaac, Cora, Laura and Derek came through the door. He ignores Scott’s whistles and Malia’s cheering and goes to Boyd, grabbing the bottle from his hands and taking a long swing.

“Now that the birthday boy is here we can actually celebrate. Cheers!” he says, drinking again. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling so embarrassed or why he doesn’t want to look at Derek right now, he just knows that alcohol seems like a good idea.

 

Alcohol was so not a good idea.

Stiles is so drunk he’s swaying on his feet even with the wall at his back. The music feels too loud and all of his friends seem to be just a little tipsy. Except for Lydia, but he had seen Lydia hold her liquor better than Isaac and he wasn’t remotely impressed by the way she seems to keep up with the wolves’ drinking and still dance in her high heels. Okay maybe he’s a little impressed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Malia and Kira kissing against the wall. _That’s new_ , his drunk brain supplies. Stiles doesn’t want to see the girl he used to make out with kissing someone else, it makes him feel awkward and painfully single so he stumbles out of the house to the front porch and lets the chilly air wash over him, waking him up just so.

He hadn’t seen Derek for a long time but maybe he had taken off. He didn’t want to admit he missed him. Not now, not when he was at college, not ever. Okay, maybe he missed him a little, but not more than the rest of his friend. Definitely he didn’t miss their stupid arguments over the phone or his small smile when he read or- Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Someone comes out of the house and stands next to him. He knows that someone is Derek when he doesn’t say anything for he longest time. Stiles looks up and tries to will the world to stop turning and focus on Derek’s beautiful face. God, Stiles wishes he could touch that beautiful face.

“Is that so?” Derek asks.

Fuck. He is too drunk for this shit. He didn’t even know when he was speaking anymore.

“I really like your face,” Stiles slurs.

“God, you’re so drunk,” he hears as a reply.

“I really like your face when I’m not drunk too.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbles, trying to make his way past Derek but he stumbles and the other man catches him by the shoulders.

“We can talk tomorrow. Now, let me get you somewhere you can pass out and not choke on your own vomit.”

Stiles thinks he nods and allows Derek to half-carry him to the second floor.

The next thing he knows, he’s lying on his side looking at the desk chair where Derek is sitting with a book on his lap.

Before he passes out, he wonders how Derek would act if he ever got as drunk as Stiles was right now. He hoped it involved a shirtless Derek poledancing in his living room.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

Blake is less than an inch taller than Darcy. Blake’s eyes are a bit smaller than Darcy’s. One of Darcy’s front teeth is slightly crooked and she constantly puts her tongue in the small space between the teeth. Stiles is too busy trying to learn everything he can about the girls before the come in.

They are in the room Stiles had first seen he girls. There’s a sofa and two smaller chairs, a table with a couple of toys and kindergarten tables and chairs pushed against the walls. The room has a big square window and they can see the kids playing in the patio. Marin had pointed out what girl was who before going outside to fetch them. Derek paces around the room as Stiles looks out of the window seeing them laugh as they run. He feels that pull inside his heart, that is probably gonna stay there forever, as Marin walks with them towards the back door. Derek tenses and Stiles guesses he can hear them approaching.

The door opens and a little girl glances at them from the entrance.

They both hold heir breath for a second, the little girl, Blake, looks at them for a second and then goes out again. A moment later, Marin pushes the door open and they come in.

“Blake, Darcy, this are Stiles and Derek” she introduces them pointing at them, “we’ve talked about them, right?” Both girls nod. “They are here to see you and get to know you. Would you like that?” They nod again. “Alright, I’ll be here if you need me.”

And she leaves to sit by the door.

“Hi” Stiles says cautiously.

“You be dad?” Darcy asks.

Stiles chokes back a sob.

“If you want us to,” Derek replies.

“Good,” she says, extending a hand towards Stiles, “Darcy.”

“Wow, you’re more polite than Jackson. I’m Stiles” answers as he shakes her hand. She does the same to Derek. Blake, however doesn’t make a move.

“Blake, are you okay?” asks Derek. She comes closer to Derek and lifts her hands up, clearly asking to be carried. Derek complies and picks her up.

When Blake puts her arm around him and mumbles _Papa_ , Stiles knows they’re going to be alright.

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

Stiles has had bad hangovers but no one like this one. He feels as if his head will explode and something died in his mouth. He thanks the heavens he didn’t choke on his own vomit and rolls around to get up. He falls from the bed with a surprised yelp when he recognizes Derek asleep on his desk chair.

He looks down at the sheets he’s tangled in and then back at Derek who’s awake now, smiling. Not the small tug of the corner smile, not the fake, flirty smile he’s seen in his face twice, but his real amused smile.

Stiles wants to kiss him so bad that he thinks Derek can read it on his face. The truth is, he probably can.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles as he gets up.

“Why are you even apologizing for?”

“I woke you up.”

Derek shakes his head. “I should be going anyway, I have to start packing.”

“What? What do you mean packing? Where are you going?”

Derek looks sheepish, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“I decided to finish my Ph.D. so I’m going back to Berkeley.”

What.

“What?”

Derek just roll his eyes and goes out by the window. Stiles can hear his own heartbeat on his ears for a long time after Derek leaves. They don't talk about the night before for a long, long time.

 

— — —

 

**Now**

 

Everything about the girls’ room had ensued an argument. From the wall colors (Yellow is the ugliest color ever, Stiles. I’m not painting my daughters’ room lilac. I’d rather you ripped my throat out. With your teeth.) to the toys (You are never too young for a light saber, Derek. Christ, Stiles no, we’re not getting Star Wars for our two years old daughters.) but they had survived. Mostly thanks to Lydia’s clever inputs and Kira’s useful recommendations.

They had about a thousand arguments in the span of eight days, what it took them to have the girls’ room ready for their definitive placement. Stiles had wanted to give the girls an opportunity to sleep over without the pressure of staying but Marin had smiled and said, trust us, the girls want to be staying.

So they had made the arrangements at home, at work, and with their friends and family for meetings and such. They were picking up the girls at 10 am and Stiles had been up since 5 trying to calm down. Derek had woken up around 7 and they had kissed for a long time and showered together. Still, they were early on the road and arrived early to the adoption agency. They waited by the same room they had met the girls. Not too long after Stiles sits down, a young woman opens the door and comes in carrying two identical suitcases containing the girls’ clothes and some toys. Stiles knows the importance of keeping familiar things during the transition and thanks the woman twice for her help.

The kids come in wearing similar dresses. Blake’s is white with a dark blue flower pattern while Darcy’s was a light blue with a white flower pattern. When Darcy sees them, she smiles brightly and runs towards Derek yelling Papa! Blake doesn’t run but catches with her sister just a moment later, throwing her arms around Stiles. He scoops his little girl up and follows Derek out of the room.

Stiles sits in the back with the girls in the ride back to Beacon Hills and tell them about the town, about his father, about Derek’s sisters, about anything that comes to his mind.

He had watched fascinated as Derek read them before bed and the way he had smiled the whole day as if his life was finally complete. Stiles kisses the girls goodnight and drags his husband out of the room smiling brighter than ever.

 

— — —

 

**Then**

 

This Christmas would be different even if Stiles had to kill someone to make it happen. He was going to kiss Derek even if it meant ruining their friendship. Their friendship was already ruined by Derek by agreeing to be his teacher’s assistant for Linguistic Anthropology. Who gave him the right? Not because he knew the teacher and apparently he was an _outstanding student_ he had any right to appear in his favorite class wearing freaking glasses and with a severe case of bed hair. And that kept happening for an entire semester. Stiles was so frustrated that he would gladly ruin his friendship with Derek if it meant the possibility of something, _anything_ with him.

Stiles would love to say he’s sexually frustrated because that is easy to deal with, that’s familiar territory for him by now. But it’s not just that, it’s the way he wants to wake up next to Derek for as long as he’ll have him, the way he wants a chance to laugh with him in bed, how much he wants Derek to just hold him.

He’s so completely fucked.

Unlike the previous year, Derek is really early this time. Stiles hasn’t even bothered to clean the living room yet.

“Why are you here so early?”

“I wanted-” Derek sighs loudly, as if giving up. “I wanted to see you.”

“Me?”

“I certainly didn’t came to see the other guy called Stiles that lives in this house.”

“Couldn’t it have waited until later?”

“No, I just- You know what, forget it. See you later.”

 _In Christmas you tell the truth_ , a voice repeats in his head. Stiles needs to stop using Christmas movies as his life gurus. Someday they won’t have the answer.

“Derek,” he says. No, he pleads.

Derek stops and turns around. Stiles, not feeling bold enough to say anything out loud just walks to him and kiss him.

And Derek doesn’t kiss him back.

He pulls back, ready to bolt out of the room when Derek catches his wrist.

“If you’re doing this to get your grade up, I’m gonna punch you.”

“Nah, I don’t usually kiss TAs for a grade. Do _you_ often kiss your students?”

“Only the promising ones,” Derek teases.

Stiles shoves him gently. Just a moment later they’re kissing again.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize for my laptop that is absolute trash and ruined everything. Also for any mistakes that are solely my own. 
> 
> Please don't take this as an honest depiction of the adoption process in California. I did my fair share of research, but I'm not American and I've never adopted a baby so I literally made everything up.
> 
> Also thanks to my cheerleader [Veena](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmemoria) (lostmemoria on tumblr) and to the [sterek Haven](http://sterekhaven.tumblr.com) for making this possible.
> 
> Happy holidays!


End file.
